


Untitled

by mllesatine



Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mllesatine/pseuds/mllesatine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://pacifickink.livejournal.com/1057.html?thread=86817#t86817">kink meme prompt</a>: Leckie/And that lieutenant whose name I don't know but he totally stole Leckie's Japanese chest, "You know you want me."<br/>set in episode 4 "Gloucester/Pavuvu/Banika"<br/>Filled April 2010</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Leckie could feel Larkin’s scorching look through the thick curtain of rain pounding on his head and obscuring his vision. One step closer and he would be free from the wet baggage dragging him down. Nothing could stop him inside that tent, not even a court martial for bashing the man’s head in.

Gray fucking socks, mocked the rain at night. And another voice murmured: ‘I’d give you just about anything for this.’

On automatic he got up, put his rotting boots on and went for Larkin’s tent. The flaps were closed but when Leckie stepped inside, Larkin was sitting at his desk. A gas lamp illuminated the table. Larkin dropped his pen and stood up.

“What’s the matter, private?”

Leckie stared at the lamp.

“Get out, Leckie.”

“I’d give you just about anything for the jap’s pistol.” The pause contained a million rain drops falling. “Sir.”

“Get the fuck out of my tent.”

Leckie stepped closer but couldn’t bring himself to look Larkin in the face. His hand hovered uncertainly in the air before he grabbed Larkin’s crotch.

“You damn…” Larkin pushed him back and took a wild swing. His fist grazed Leckie’s cheek but Leckie pitched forward, his shoulder colliding with Larkin’s chest.

They fell down, continuing to grapple but Leckie soon found himself face down on the floor. Larkin had twisted his right arm on his back and had hooked his feet under Leckie’s calves, keeping him down. “Son of a bitch. What’s wrong with you?”, asked Larkin. He didn’t sound angry, Leckie noted.

“What is wrong with me, Sir? What’s the matter with you?” The blood pounding in his head was louder than the rain.

“Fuck you!”

“That’s a court martial, marine. Attacking an officer … I could shoot you for it.”

‘Do it then. Get it over with.’ “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.”

Larkin put his weight on the twisted arm as he leaned further down. “That what you want?”

“I’d do anything for the pistol”, Leckie replied slowly. A moment later his arm was free and hands pulled him up by his belt. Larkin pawned at him, trying to push his pants down. Leckie reached down, opened the belt. Larkin pulled his pants and underwear down, then stopped.

The loud crack made Leckie turn around. Larkin’s and his gaze locked for a moment. The chest had crashed to the floor, socks and pistol tumbling out. Larkin had found what he was looking for.

“Can’t do it dry”, he explained when Leckie looked at the tube in his hand. Leckie turned back around and fought the laughter. There was danger in laughing. He couldn’t in this position. Not when he was on his knees, waiting for a right bastard of an officer to fuck him. This was where madness lay. He concentrated on the fleeting pain in his right arm and the blood roar in his ears.

“Hurry up, okay?”

He hadn’t seen Larkin’s dick, only felt it hard against his thigh when they were on the floor. A slick finger touched him hesitantly, but the rain kept all thoughts out until Larkin pushed in.

“Will you hurry…”

“Shut up”, Larkin said angrily. He grabbed Leckie by the shoulder and moved forward. The embarrassment of finishing too soon seemed impossible for a while. Larkin grunted and groaned but Leckie felt caught between the dragging and pushing onslaught until Larkin lay a hand on his neck and pushed him down. Leckie rested his head on his arms and could see the contents of the chest strewn around. The pistol was there, too.

Suddenly his vision swam. Larkin pushed in, pulled out. Leckie groaned. His knees hurt, Larkin’s short fingernails were digging into his neck and that sweet pain inside him sparked flashes behind his eyelids.

“Keep going, keep going”, he gasped. Larkin started jacking his hard dick. It was too much and not enough. When Leckie came it felt like submitting to a force he couldn’t control. He was unable to breathe, to move, to think. Larkin kept at it until he abruptly froze.

“Goddamn!” Leckie could feel Larkin shudder. The hand on his neck tightened once more before Larkin let him go.

Leckie used some dry socks to clean up the mess. Putting on his pants and fastening his belt he glanced at the pistol. Larkin rummaged in his shirt pockets. When he turned back, Leckie had stuck the pistol between his belt and pants. Larkin offered him a cigarette and they smoked in silence.

“You are a real pushover, Leckie.”

“You too, Sir.”

When Leckie walked back to his own tent the rain had stopped.

\- End


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